


Kings of Promise

by storming_wolf



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Arranged Marriage, Childhood Sweethearts, Established Jeanmarco, Homophobia, Jinae, Kidnapping, M/M, Modern Royalty, Orphan Jean, Orphan Marco, Orphans, POV Marco Bott, Prince!Marco, Religious Conflict, Roman Catholicism, Royal school, Royalty, Same-Sex Marriage, Trost
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-10
Updated: 2015-01-10
Packaged: 2018-03-06 22:51:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3151313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storming_wolf/pseuds/storming_wolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco is an orphan who receives the shock of his life: He is the Lost Prince of Jinae. With the kingdom in need of a new king, he and Jean go to Jinae to learn the kingdom is old-fashioned, and not on board with same-sex marriage. Jean and Marco are about to change that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kings of Promise

**Author's Note:**

> I had a really bad writers block and this resulted from watching Disney Princess movies all winter break and imagining a same-sex Disney princesses/princes movie.
> 
> Shout out to from-sparks-to-flames for listening to me whine about writing this even though she has no idea what Jeanmarco is. 
> 
> I have like 20 tumblrs tbh, but my main one is stevefromgasnsip and my anime one is theamazingmarco if you wanna check me out on there. And thanks for reading this, I hope you like what I have planned.

Jean and I have been together for as long as I can remember. We met when I was about 3 in the orphanage and haven’t been apart since. Some of the orphanage volenterers would tell us stories about how other kids used to bully me and Jean took me under his wing and watched out for me. There’s loads of pictures of Jean, this tall, confident, 4 year old with a short, freckled, tan kid holding onto his arm for dear life. Jean and I were inseperable.

I remember the first time Jean had gotten adopted. I cried for days, and Jean didn’t fair off much better. His adoptive parents bought him back for behaviour issues after he trashed his room screaming for me. After that, we fought to stay together. People would come in looking to adopt, and Jean and I laid the rules down simply: either both of us or neither of us.

This mentality didn’t get us adopted. Once we hit 13, we knew we would spend the next 5 years trapped here. No one adopted teenagers.

It was okay to us, though. We had each other, and that’s all we needed. We started high school that year, right after I turned 13 and Jean had turned 14. I had skipped a grade so I could be with Jean, and Jean worked his hardest not to fail so we could be together all the time. In high school, we made a lot of friends. Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Connie, Sasha, Krista and Ymir to name a few. Jean and I remained close to each other and halfway through our first year of high school, I learned what ‘gay’ meant. I used to think it meant stupid or something like that, but after I learned that it meant liking someone of the same gender, I figured I was gay. I told Armin that I was gay since I liked Jean and soon I learned that it meant _like_ liked. That’s when I realised I didn’t _like_ like Jean...I loved him. I had loved him since he came back to me after getting adopted. We had both sacrifced the ability to have normal lives with parents too many times to count. Jean and I were made for each other, but I was scared that he didn’t love me the same way I loved him.

Right when I was coming to terms with my feelings for Jean, he was coming to terms with his feelings for Mikasa. I remember him going on and on in our bunk about it at all hours of the night, and every word felt like a stab to my heart. Until the day he asked me, “Are you okay with this?...with...with me liking her?”

Tears rushed down my face as I told him that I was in love with him and I understood if he wasn’t in love with me. He took my face in his hands and kissed me. I don’t think he’s thought about Mikasa like that since.

 It was 2 months before graduation and I was still only 16 when they told Jean that after graduation he had to find somewhere else to live since he was 18. I was able to stay over the summer until we left for college since at that point I would only be 17, but I didn’t want to leave Jean. I requested to be emancipated and the request was granted and Jean and I stayed in a cheap motel until we started college.

And that’s where we’ve been, up until the day our lives changed forever.

* * *

I cuddled back into the figure behind me that was coaxing me out of my slumber. His arms were wrapped tightly around my torso, his breath hot on the back of my neck as he kissed the freckles behind my ear and whispered my name. As I grew more coherent, I felt his hands trail down my stomach and-

“JEAN!” I gasped as his hands began their assault on all my ticklish spots.

“Marco is soooo ticklish!” Jean flipped me on my back and straddled me, his nose nuzzled in my neck. I smiled and stole a kiss from his soft lips.

“G’morning,” I whispered. He smiled down at me and kissed me lazily. I tangled my fingers in his lighter coloured hair before letting my had fall on his bare shoulder.

“Do you have class today?” Jean asked as he continued to kiss down my neck.

“Surprisingly, pre-med is giving me a day off," I sighed happily as he kissed the crevace of my collar bone. "Don't you have panting at 8 today?"

"Maybe..." Jean kissed down my chest and disappeared under the blanket. 

"Jean," I pouted. "You need to get ready for class." 

"What if I'm quick?" Jean muttered against my thigh. I lifted the blanket to find Jean positioned between my legs, his thumb fiddling with the band of my boxers.

"Professor Levi will have your head on a stick if you're late again. It's only the third week of classes and you've been late how many times now?" I pointed out.

"Everyday," Jean replied somberly. "But morning sex is the best sex."

"It'll still be morning sex at 10 am, when you finish class," I said, nudging him away from my crotch with my knee. He crawled up the bed and pushed me down. 

"But you won't be all cute and disheveled at 10 am," Jean groaned. 

"Class. Go," I ordered. Jean gave me a kiss, defeatedly, and rolled out of bed.

"Fine, your majesty. I'll do as you please," Jean said dramatically as he disappeared into the bathroom. 

"My hero," I replied just as dramatically. I stretched out in the bed and settled on his side of the bed, breathing in the pungent scent of his Axe. The bathroom door opened and Jean emerged dripping wet head to toe and a towel dangerously loose around his hips, not hiding what was beneath it though. 

"Shower with me?" Jean asked with puppy dog eyes, lips pouted and water beading down his slightly toned chest. I smiled and bounced out of bed, leaving my boxers behind.

* * *

I lazed around all morning once I got Jean out of the door before he was late. I stayed cuddled in a ball of blankets and pillows as I slipped between sleeping and being awake until 10, when I promised Jean I would meet him outside of the class so he could show me what he painted for his first project.

“Hey Jean,” I greeted him with a smile as he came out of the classroom with a large canvas in his hands. He wrapped his arm around me and kissed my cheek.

“My freckled muse! Would you like to see the A your beautiful face has given me?” Jean asked with a goofy grin. I nodded and he uncovered the canvas. There was a perfect replica of my sleeping face on the canvas. “I call it Sleeping Beauty.”

“You’re lame,” I chuckled, playfully swatting him away.

“You’re lame,” he teased back, leaning up and kissing me softly. I’ll never get over the irony that I was always the short, scrawny one growing up and now the tables had turned. I was 16 when I shot up 6 inches and put on some muscle. That was an interesting year as Jean had to ward off the freshman girls who were chasing after me.

“What the hell did you do, Marco?” Eren asked, breaking Jean and I from the start of our make-out session.

“W-What do you mean?” I stuttered.

“There are some big official looking guys in suits looking for you,” Eren said.

“There you are, Marco!” one of the school administrators said.. “You need to come to the Welcome Office immediately! Officials from the Royal Republic of Jinae are here to see you.”

“M-Me? Are you sure you have the right guy?” I asked.

“They asked for a tan, freckled, brown eyed boy named Marco,” he said. “You fit the bill.”

I looked at Jean with a concerned look as we followed him across campus to the welcome center. As soon as I arrived, all of the secretarys stood.

“Right this way, Marco,” Dean Ewrin said. I went into his office and he closed the door, himself and Jean on the outside. Two men in suits turned towards me. One bowed, nudging the other.

“Bow before the lost prince,” he said through clenched teeth.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Your majesty,” one of the men pulled out a chair and I took the seat. An official looking man sat in the dean’s chair.

“This may be alarming to you,” he said.

“A little,” I cautiously said.

“You’ve the highest marks in your class behind a Mr. Arlert. Impressive. You’ve the intelligence of a prince, and the looks of it. You must have a girlfriend,” he said.

“Not exactly...” I trailed off. Hetronormative people would call  _me_ the girlfriend of my relationship with Jean.

“We can get to that later. What you need to know is you are the Lost Prince of Jinae. 18 years ago the son of our King and Queen was kidnapped and no where to be found. We searched for years for you, and we find you at the most crucial time. Your father fell ill and passed a year ago, and you will take his place as ruler of Jinae,” he said. I stared at him for a moment before bursting into laughter.

“I’m being punked, right?”

“I do not understand,” he said.

“This is a joke. I’ve been poorer than dirt all my life and you’re telling me I’m supposed to be a king, never mind, to rule a country?” I asked with a chuckle.

“Yes,” he said. The man sitting across from me showed me a picture. It was a man and woman, who I looked like the perfect combination of, and in their arms, a freckled baby that looked like me in younger pictures of Jean and I.

“Holy shit. I’m...a prince?”

* * *

“You’re shitting me, right?” Jean chuckled as he lied on the couch upside down in our apartment. “So why did your royal ‘rents ditch you?”

“They didn’t,” I said. “I was kidnapped, aparently.” Jean was half paying attention to me as he played 2048 on his phone. “Jean! This is a serious matter!” I snatched the phone from him and slammed it on the table. He sat upright and looked at me as I sat on the coffee table across from him.

“They told me to pack a bag. I’m flying to Jinae tomorrow for an official DNA test to confirm if I am Marco the sixth, but it looks pretty legit from here. My time at the orphanage is only 3 months from the kidnapping, and the prince was kidnapped at 2 months old, and I was 5 months old when I arrived there,” I said. “I want you to come. I can’t do this on my own. And if I am this lost prince, which I doubt, I’m not leaving you behind.” Jean sat up and took my hands.

“Nothing is gonna separate us Marco,” Jean said. “We’ll do what we did as kids if we have to.”

“So I throw a tantrum and possibly ruin a country?” I chuckled. He pressed my forehead against his.

“We’ll get through this, baby,” Jean whispered as he kissed me and pulled me onto his lap.

“I did some research about Jinae,” I said softly.

“Hmm?” Jean murmured into my neck.

“They aren’t exactly on board with the whole same-sex thing. They're a really conservative and old-fashioned. They literally just started using WI-FI this year. Don't you think a gay king and his bisexual boyfriend is gonna be a culture shock to them?" I asked.

“We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. But right now...” Jean whispered as he undid my shirt buttons. “I’m gonna do you in the most unroyal way possible.”

“You’re so fucking stupid,” I chuckled as he carried me to the bedroom.

* * *

The plane to Jinae was leaving at 6 am, which meant Jean and I were half asleep throwing whatever we deemed important into a suitcase. I had to drag Jean around the apartment to get him out the door and into the limo that was waiting for us. I had learned that William Pike was the Ambassador of Jinae sent by Queen Mary, who may be my mom. William was waiting in the limo when we got out of the apartment complex

“Who is your friend?” William asked once Jean and I got into the limo.

“Jean. His name is Jean. We’ve been friends since...well...since forever. We were in the orphanage together and we share the apartment. I wanted Jean to come for moral support and for the fact that the apartment would be a wreck without me,” I explained, playfully nudging Jean and him nudging me back.

“That’s quite alright. There’s plenty of room, but I have to mind you that your...facial alterations are not exactly acceptable in the presence of her majesty,” William said. Jean’s ears, eyebrows, and lip was all pieced. Jean worked off all of his piercings as we drove to the airport where a private plane took us to Jinae.

The first stop was to get a DNA sample, then to the castle. After the time change, flight, and getting the DNA test, it was nearly night by time we arrived there, and we wouldn’t know for sure if I indeed was Marco the sixth until late the next morning. Gustave, the servant at the castle, took our things to our rooms. 

"Anything you would like for supper?" Gustave asked. Jean noticed his thick French accent and his struggle with the few English words he said.

"Quoi que vous apporter est bien, s'il vous plaît. Merci beaucoup monsieur," the french words rolled off of Jean's tongue in a way that sent shivers down my spine. I loved when Jean spoke French, especially to me. He took learning French seriously as a kid when he learned that his parents were French con-men on the run that dropped him off in Trost to be safe. He hoped one day to find them, and practiced French every waking second until he was fluent so he could talk to them if he did.

"Ah, tout de suite monsieur. Je vais apporter spéciale de le chef," Gustave bowed before leaving Jean and I to the massive dining room. Well, room wasn't the correct word. Hall is more like it.

William told us that Queen Mary was making negotiations with another country tonight and would join us in the morning, so it was just Jean and I in a massive castle thousands of miles away from home. Jean took out his phone and snapped a selfie and sent it to everyone back home via Facebook. 

Not even a minute later the comments came in from everyone.

**Connie: No way, the rumors were true?!**

**Eren: Come on Marco, out of all the people to take to a royal castle, you choose Jean?**

**Sasha: SO YOU REALLY ARE A PRINCE!!!!!!!**

Jean and I laughed at the comments as we settled next to each other at the table. I pulled out my phone and liked Jean's picture and commented on it myself.

**Marco: Sorry Eren, Jean has that je ne sais quois ;)**

"D'ya get it? Because french?" I chuckled.

"You're such a fuckin' dweeb," Jean held my hand under the table and kissed me softly but quickly, afraid to be seen by anyone else.

Gustave came back with two trays of food and placed them infront of us.

"Le foie gras est réputé monde," Gustave said. 

"I haven't had foie gras since we went to France a few years back!" Jean enthused. I smiled at Gustave who looked at me with a happy grin.

"Merci," I said with a smile and swallowed my pride right along with the foie gras. Jean freaking  _loved_ foie gras. We took a trip to Paris with the foreign language department in high school and Jean would not shut up about foie gras since it was illegal in Trost. I really wish I hadn't investigated  _why_ it was illegal. It tasted good, don't get me wrong, but when you think about what you're really eating, its a punch in the gut when you swallow it.

"You look pale," Jean mentioned as he ate the fattened liver.

"I feel pale," I muttered as I tried to think of everything except for the fact I was eating freaking duck liver. I eventually made it through dinner without barfing and a butler lead us to our rooms once we finished, even though I protested him to let me help clear the table. Not to long after changing into sweat pants and an old MCR shirt, Jean slipped into my room. He looked pretty weird without all his piercings.

“This is pretty fancy,” Jean said, slipping his hands around my waist. He kissed me softly and led me back to the bed.

“Jean..” I whispered. I fell back on the bed and moaned. “Thiiiis iiiis soooooft!”

“I know right,” Jean agreed. We had spent our entire lives sleeping on floors and hard spring beds, so we were fast asleep not even a few minutes after cuddling on the bed. While I wasn't so fond of eating fancy French dishes that consisted of tortured duck organs, I could get used to cuddling with Jean in a plush, memory foam bed and not having to worry if we could afford the roof over our heads.

* * *

Jean and I showered in the in-suite bathroom and got dressed in the nicest clothes we had. We were pretty sure it was illegal to be in the same residence of the queen with band shirts from Hot Topic on. Jean put on a black button up with a red skinny tie and black skinny jeans while I wore a white button down and khakis. We voted against shoes since the floors were so nice and shiny. As we made our way out of the room to find William, we were greeted with several bows from passing people. Eventually we ran into William in the sitting room with none other than the Queen herself. She had my eyes and freckles. Jean and I both bowed upon noticing her.

“Your majesty,” I stuttered as we stood. She walked over to me and pulled me into a hug.

“My son! I never thought I'd see you again,” She whispered.

“M-Mom?” my voice cracked.

“You look just like your father,” she pulled away and kissed my cheek, tears streaming down her face. I felt my own eyes grow watery at the fact that I have parents.  _Parent_. the Gut-wrenching thought of my father being dead without having known that I was okay and alive hurt something deep inside that I didn't know existed.

“I think it’s needless to say you are in fact Marco the sixth,” William said.

  
 ****

**Author's Note:**

> Some clarifications about Trost and Jinae. Trost is an American city, kind of like a New York where immigrants come to find a new life, and that's where Jean's storyline ties into Trost. Marco's kidnappers were close to getting caught, so the left Marco in Trost since a foreign baby being left at an orphanage was common. 
> 
> Now lets imagine the border of Spain and France(closer to the North). Build a nice sized bubble about the size of Luxembourg and there is Jinae. They have no national language, but everyone is taught French, Catalan Spanish, and UK English. 
> 
> French used in this chapter is 20% me, 99% google translate and duolingo:
> 
> Quoi que vous apporter est bien, s'il vous plaît. Merci beaucoup monsieur = Anything you bring is fine, please. Thank you very much sir
> 
> Ah, tout de suite monsieur. Je vais apporter spéciale de le chef = Ah, right away sir. I'll bring the chef's special (I did the second half of this sentence on my own, sorry if I placed the nouns in the wrong place)
> 
> Le foie gras est réputé monde = The foie gras(fat liver) is world renowned


End file.
